


(Not so) Internal Conflicts

by antigrav_vector



Series: Things I blame on the CapRBB slack [8]
Category: Captain America (MCU), Iron Man (MCU), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bucky and James are different personalities, Canon-Typical Violence, Choices, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt Tony, Hurt/Comfort, I blame CAPRBB slack chat, Identity Issues, James flirts a bit like a sledgehammer, Kidnapping, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mission Fic, Past Bucky Barnes/Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Past James "Bucky" Barnes/the Winter Soldier, Past Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Rescue Fic, Self-Determination, Self-Discovery, but James treats him a bit like one, but they're learning to live together, don't question it too hard, idek, offscreen blood and gore, really weird love triangles, tony is not a damsel in distress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-25 19:38:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13219791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antigrav_vector/pseuds/antigrav_vector
Summary: Tony gets taken. James overreacts. Steve and Bucky are along for the ride, and somewhat baffled. Nat thinks this is hilarious and that James is falling for Tony. The men think she's lost her mind. At first.





	(Not so) Internal Conflicts

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'ed.
> 
> Happy New Year, dear readers.

It happened as late summer faded into fall -- one of Bucky's favourite times of year, marked by the last gloriously warm days and cool nights.

He'd been living in the Tower for nearly four months now and getting used to having the Avengers around him. The team had been helping him in his crusade to burn HYDRA to the ground, as he and James had hoped they would, and everything had been going almost like clockwork. Even James seemed to be warming up to everyone, albeit more quickly to some than others. He seemed to like Stark the most, which puzzled Bucky to no end.

Steve and Stark had been instrumental in getting as far as they had, with the way the Widow and Hawkeye still had obligations to Fury and what was left of his secret organisation. 

And then the relative calm had been shattered.

On the tail end of one of Stark's many press conferences, violence erupted live on camera; shots were fired, and one hit Stark in the shoulder as he reached for his suitcase armour, making him drop the case and fall to his knees, clutching at the injury. All around him the crowd of reporters panicked, storming the doors and getting in one anothers' ways as they tried to get out of the room. They knocked the cameramen off their feet and carried them along, cutting off the feed abruptly.

James seized control without giving Bucky a chance to protest, and they were out of their seat before Bucky quite knew what was happening, Steve and the Widow hard on his heels.

"James?" Steve guessed.

"We're going after them." James growled, not willing to tolerate a no.

"Damned right we're going after them," Steve replied, sounding like he was rolling his eyes. "But we need to know where they took him."

"Sir is always wearing at least one device that I can track," JARVIS put in, "because of just this sort of eventuality. He has been in similar situations before."

The Widow made a half-amused sound. "The earliest few kidnapping attempts were in his file," she told James as he led them into the armoury Stark had built into this floor of the Tower. "He always found a way to get out, and usually blew the place up behind him. He refused to debrief after Afghanistan, but we're fairly sure that escape followed the same pattern, given the large explosion that the Air Force reported occurring in the region where Stark was being held."

Steve huffed. "He pulled something similar when the Mandarin tried to take him, too," he pointed out.

None of this was really reassuring James in the least. Stark had come out of both those encounters with serious injuries, physical and psychological. Stark was still fighting them, in fact.

He refused to allow that to happen again. "He'll pull the same trick again if he can," James agreed with the two of them as he pulled his body armour -- new and improved thanks to Stark -- off its rack and starting too pull it on, "but if HYDRA took him, they may not give him the chance. Suit up or stay here and let me handle this."

"I already told you, we're going with you," Steve grumbled, following suit. "Calm down."

Bucky rolled his eyes at him. _They have a point, James,_ he said, _you know you can't just rush in there and hope everything works out. That's Stark's gig. Not yours._

"First we find out where they're going," Widow said with an air of finality as she slid her Bites onto her wrists, "then we plan accordingly. Is the Quinjet fueled up, JARVIS?"

"Always, Ms. Romanov," came the response. "I have taken the liberty of informing Ms. Potts, as she will have to hold her own press conference on this matter, and I would recommend sending Hawkeye and the Falcon with her to prevent a repeat occurrence. The attack on Sir will send the top levels of Stark Industries into crisis management stances even without another disaster." The AI paused for a brief moment to signal that he was changing topics, and James' focus narrowed slightly. "Several of the trackers still register as being at the site of the press conference, corresponding to sir's cell phone, watch, and the suit locator and assembly bracelets. The suitcase armour appears to have been taken, however. Radar and satellite analysis suggests a civilian DC10. It would be wise to assume it has been modified and retrofitted, however."

"Suggestion noted and approved," Steve told the AI with a nod, "let them know, please?"

Though he agreed with the move, James stepped in, getting impatient again. "Where is the suitcase armour, JARVIS?"

A map of the northern Atlantic Ocean appeared in the center of the room, on the single holoprojector that Stark had installed there, and James scowled. It showed the Eastern Seaboard and the vast empty stretches between Greenland and the Baltic States, near the Arctic Circle. A red dot moved slowly away from Long Island and toward open water.

The Widow made an unsurprised sound. "They're trying to get him out of U.S. jurisdiction so that we can't legally go after them."

"And it's going to work, unless we get moving," Steve said, with an expression that said he was thinking hard about action, reaction, and consequence, trying to work out the best angle of approach.

"So let's get moving." James simply strode out of the room and headed for the hangar, leaving Steve to scramble to keep up with him. The Widow managed it much more gracefully than Steve. She simply reappeared at his side as though nothing had happened. Steve almost tripped over his own feet, his mind still on the tactical situation and ramifications.

In the end they made it to the jet without any more delays, though, and the option to _do something_ soothed James' ragged nerves a bit.

Bucky huffed at him as he buckled himself into the pilot's seat over Steve's objections. _Gonna tell me what this is all about, then? Stark isn't helpless, so why are you acting as though he was?_

That question gave James pause. He knew Stark was anything but helpless.

On the other hand, he knew exactly how good HYDRA was at breaking good people, and Stark was one of the best he knew. He refused to lose anyone he cared about to them.

That got him a raised eyebrow from Bucky. _You care about Stark? Enough to jump into literal gunfire for him?_

So did Steve. And the Widow. And James didn't doubt the rest of the team would follow, their lead, too. Without hesitation.

The silence from Bucky that followed as he guided the jet into the air and out of the hangar was somewhere between disbelieving and amused. James ignored him. He had higher priorities than arguing with Bucky, anyway.

Instead, he started giving orders. "Widow, are the armaments on this jet powerful enough to shoot them down?"

She turned to him with a hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. "Stark designed them. They're good enough to blow the thing to atoms, if you hit the right spot."

That... was less than ideal, actually. He knew that Tony wouldn't be wearing his armour, so blowing the fleeing HYDRA craft up would be a terrible choice. The thought sent a chill down his spine that made goosebumps rise on his skin.

 _Hah. You care a lot more about him than you wanna admit, don't you,_ Bucky smirked knowingly. _That's what I felt before I realised Steve was it for me._

Bucky's commentary faded as Steve made a sound like he was going to try to take charge. James talked right over him. "What do we have that will disable it?"

Widow's expression went anticipatory. "Stark's rid of the Arc Reactor, so the EMP should suit, as long as we can force them low enough to make a crash survivable."

"Assuming Stark doesn't manage it first," Steve pointed out. "Did you see that flicker in the tracker's signal?"

James felt a flicker of mixed pride in Stark's abilities and fierce satisfaction at seeing him deal with whoever had taken him. JARVIS wasn't openly installed on the Quinjet, so they had no access to his analyses, currently. That was an oversight that James was of a mind to remedy as soon as they had Stark back.

Until then, he let the anticipation take him and gunned the throttle, he would make do. His own skills in tracking were excellent, after all.

A silence took hold of them and held, a moment stretching into infinity, as they caught up to the other craft.

Once they had, James took up a position just outside the range of their radar and at an angle that kept them out of sight, deciding to let them make a mistake rather than risk Stark's life just yet. 

The Widow was right, after all. Stark was good at escapes. 

_Oh? Now you're ready to admit waiting might be a good idea?_ Bucky snarked at him. _Thought you were going to just charge in._

It was tempting to do just that, simply to spite Bucky, but he knew better. Stark took risks that made even James think twice, and he wasn't about to add to them. 

"What are you waiting for?" The Widow prompted him, "Let's force them out of the sky. Stark will notice and come out to meet us if he can."

That sounded risky as hell. James almost refused.

Forcing his dread back out of the forefront of his attention, he sent the Quinjet into a high arc, until they were above the other jet and slightly behind it. "And if he can't?" He asked her quietly, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"Have a little faith," the Widow chided him. "We'll catch him."

James swallowed against the way the thought made his throat close. 

_Yeah, you're gone on him._ Bucky sounded surprised, now. _I was joking, the first time, but wow. This is going to go so badly for all of us. Damn it._

Shoving the unhelpful commentary aside, along with as much of Bucky's influence as he could stand -- he'd grown fond of the moron that was his other half, well, all of these morons, really -- James let himself sink as deeply into the emotionless mindset of the Asset as he could stand.

He'd need the calm, analytical, methodical mindset it offered. Without that he'd never stand a chance.

Without a word, Steve let his hand rest on the A-- on James' shoulder briefly. Solid, bracing. Reassuring.

He could do this. _They_ could do this.

He had allies.

Setting his jaw, the A-- James aimed the nose of the jet downward and hit the throttle. Widow opened fire as he did, aiming for the control surfaces on their target's wings, shooting to cripple rather than kill.

The shots hit their marks, and James watched their prey attempt to run. It failed spectacularly. The increase in airspeed that their pilot tried to coax out of their craft only made it more unstable, putting a distinct wobble into their trajectory.

That was likely to force them out of the air soon, if the Widow didn't.

Steve's hand, still on James' shoulder, tightened as he tensed. "They're going down," he reported unnecessarily, his voice tight.

"I know," James growled, and carefully brought the Quinjet in closer.

Even if Stark managed to get free of whatever bonds they had him in, in the belly of that craft, he was already injured and that would impair him, even if he could get to his armour.

"Take the stick, Widow," he gritted out, the need to take action rising again.

Steve took his hand back, surprised, when James stood.

"James," Steve said slowly, "you'd better not be planning what I think you are."

"He is," Widow replied, audibly laughing at him. "Let him go play white knight, Steve. He wants to show off to his crush."

What.

The statement made him hesitate for a second before he continued on his path toward the hatch controls.

Steve reacted about the same, though he paused longer than James had. "Huh? What do you mean, 'his crush'?"

"Honestly. Do you boys never talk?" Widow tuned just enough in her seat to catch Steve's eyes briefly before she turned back to flying and shooting at the other plane. James could tell that she was deliberately missing, now that she knew they were falling out of the air. He approved.

"James has a hell of a crush on Tony," she reiterated, enunciating clearly just to put emphasis on her words and be an asshole. James forced himself not to growl at her. It would only make her words seem more justified.

Even if they were true.

But he wasn't talking.

Before Steve could question her further, their prey faltered and fell like a stone toward the waves about a hundred meters below. It was time.

"Now or never, Captain," he put in, pulling his mask and goggles into place as the Widow sent the Quinjet arrowing downward in pursuit, forcing Steve back on task, "you coming?"

When they were about fifty meters up, he slammed the button to open the cargo bay hatch and didn't bother waiting for the doors to open fully. He was taking a running leap out into open air the moment he could see his target, using what he knew of skydiving techniques to adjust his own trajectory until he could be fairly certain he'd be able to intercept the other jet.

They wouldn't necessarily have much time to get to Stark after his captors' plane hit the water's surface. There was a good chance it would break up on impact, and James intended to be there if it did. Knowing Stark he would insist on finding his armour, and end up nearly drowning himself.

If not for his mask, the cold air rushing past his face would have stolen the air right out of his lungs. Steve was probably not enjoying this. James risked a look over his shoulder. Nope. Steve looked grim and almost resigned, but about as determined as James felt. He could work with that.

The surface of the water loomed, and James braced himself mentally for the impact as he turned his body until he was hurtling toward the waves feet first. He turned his attention to keeping his muscles as loose as he could manage, one hand over his mask and goggles to keep them from getting ripped off when he hit the waves. This was going to hurt.

The impact with the water would have taken his breath away if he hadn't been holding it. James let his momentum dissipate and his body acclimate to the chill of the water as it soaked through his gear. He was damn glad he had his goggles. Steve had none, and that was going to sting. A second later Steve was beside him, urging him back to the surface. 

James didn't bother biting back the urge to roll his eyes. Steve couldn't see it, after all. Bucky's lover worried about them too much for his taste.

 _He always did, even when he was a shrimp,_ Bucky reminded him. _And you know how good he is at letting go of habits._

Kicking out, James swam for the surface, as Steve wanted. Bucky was right about that, he acknowledged. But if anything, he should be the one herding Steve to the surface. He was pretty sure he could hold his breath longer than Steve, after all.

When James looked up, he almost smiled in grim satisfaction and to hell with the seawater that would try to rush into his mouth. Above them, their prey hit the waves and slowed to an abrupt stop. James never hesitated. The plane bobbed in the waves, somehow mostly intact, and that meant they had enough time to get to Stark.

Sending himself upward towards his goal with long powerful movements, James felt the anticipation start fizzing through him. He was just spoiling for a fight, after everything that had happened in the last couple of hours.

 _You are going to make things so much more complicated for all four of us if you go through with this insanity and try to seduce Stark,_ Bucky warned him, still harping on that same old topic.

James wished he would let that go. The could worry about that later. First they had to get Stark back and find out who'd tried to take him.

 _Fine,_ Bucky grumbled at him. _Go get your man, then._

Satisfied with that, James nodded to himself and grabbed for the latch of the jet's rear door, which was just visible on the underside of the fuselage. Bucky, and his disapproval, faded into the background as he forced the door latch and then pried it open.

Several shouts went up as cold water started flooding into the craft's cabin.

James followed it, keeping his profile low and scanning the open space. Most of the seats had been removed to make space for what resembled a mobile armoury and cyberwarfare unit. Weapons and tech were everywhere. And in the middle of it was Stark, zip-tied to a seat by his wrists and ankles with a gag in his mouth. His injury had been perfunctorily attended to, and James intended to make these assholes pay for that.

Preferably in blood.

But he'd settle for getting Stark back and leaving the crew here to hope they were rescued. After disabling their transponder and radio.

As he took in the situation, the crew had moved to rush over to close the door again. It played right into his hands. Knowing his face and expression were hidden, James did let himself smile, then.

 _You're in a mood,_ Bucky told him.

James ignored the commentary, drawing his pistol and standing from his crouched position. That was the moment Steve got his head above water and took a deep breath.

James used the moment of stunned surprise he caused -- the crew in the cabin simply stared at him in shock -- to shoot them all. When the first shots rang out, Steve flinched reflexively, bringing his shield up to cover his head and torso. Stark did too, but he couldn't move.

The men in the cabin fell to the floor one by one, clutching at their wounds. Steve took advantage of the moment to make a leap for the cockpit, and James let him. He took the opportunity to check on Stark as the sounds of a quick and brutal fistfight became audible.

"You alright?" James asked him gruffly.

"Define 'alright'." Stark huffed at him.

"Come on, we're getting you out of here. You need medical attention." James replied, taking Stark's words to mean 'injured but stable', and using one of his knives to cut through the zip-ties holding Stark's arms pinned.

"Not without my armour," came the predictable objection.

"Where is it?" James scanned the space again but came up empty. The distinctively colored case was nowhere in sight.

The water levels were rising, slowly, and that was not a good sign. It wouldn't be much longer until the small jet slid beneath the waves, and most of the safety features intended for scenarios like this had likely been removed during the retrofit it had undergone.

That didn't bother James overly much, but Bucky wasn't pleased by the idea of leaving the assholes to drown.

 _At least give them a chance. You've already shot them. That's a big handicap at sea,_ Bucky pointed out.

But they'd taken Stark.

"They put it in the cockpit," Stark replied, breaking into their debate.

"Steve will bring it, then," James told Stark and crouched to free Stark's ankles. "Widow's waiting in the Quinjet."

Once he was loose, Stark tried to stand. He managed, but then wavered on his feet. Probably due to blood loss, James suspected, tempted once again to leave the crew to die.

 _Don't. Take one to question, instead,_ Bucky advised him as he steadied Stark with a hand on one elbow.

That... Okay, James conceded, that was smart and let him get his revenge.

One day, James knew, he and Bucky would fully agree on a mission, and that would be a good feeling.

In the meantime, they had an injured teammate to evacuate.

Sure enough, as Stark found his balance Steve emerged from the cockpit with the case in his free hand. "Let's get out of here."

James pointed to a random goon with his chin. "Secure that one and bring him," he demanded. "We need information."

Stark rolled his eyes. "Or I could tell you," he offered.

"You are going to be medicated and resting," James disagreed, and turned toward the front door of the small jet. The floor was noticeably tilted now. "And we need to get out of here."

Steve looked around at the other goons. "We can't just leave them to drown." He tapped at the comm unit in his cowl. "Widow, can you call SHIELD and have them come collect these-- oh, okay. Good."

"They're already en route, aren't they," Stark guessed.

"They are," Steve confirmed, and pulled the single inflatable life raft out of the overhead storage compartment. "James, let Tony go for a minute and help me get them onto the raft."

A large part of him was reluctant to comply -- he wanted these men to suffer -- but he gave in with a low growl.

Stark carefully made his way to the door at the front of the jet and started working it open. Steve leaned out the moment it swung wide and yanked the tab that set the raft inflating. Then he turned to Stark. "Keep that from floating away, would you?"

Stark gave him a wry look. "Just get them over here," he replied.

James grabbed for the bundle of zip-ties he spotted floating past his leg, and started securing the goons. It wouldn't hold them for long, but it didn't have to. If SHIELD was already scrambling someone to pick these guys up, they'd be floating for an hour or so at most, anyway.

He was doing it mostly out of spite.

They deserved that much. 

One by one, he and Steve tossed them into the life raft, then, once the fifth and last goon was dealt with, Steve wrapped an arm around Stark's waist. Like magic, a cable and handle appeared in front of him, and they were off, rising into the air as the Widow reeled them in. James watched them go, a mixture of jealousy, relief, and longing washing over him.

The goons in the life raft were no longer a threat, but James kept a wary eye on them anyway until the cable dangled in front of him. He wrapped a hand around it, and felt it go taut before he was hauled up out of the cold water.

Being in the air suddenly made him shiver, and he noticed just how thirsty he was.

 _No kidding, pal,_ Bucky grumbled at him. _Take care of that before we pass out._

When his feet landed on the floor of the Quinjet again, James had to resist the urge to make a face at the wet squelch his feet made in his boots. There was a good chance they were ruined.

Not that he cared, now that they had Stark back. A pair of boots was a price he'd pay in a heartbeat. 

Steve was working on coercing Stark into a seat so that he could patch up the injury to Stark's shoulder. It wasn't working too well. James moved to stand in front of Stark and caught his eyes.

"I will hold you down if I have to. Let Steve fix you up."

Stark all but snarled at him. "We can be back in the Tower, where there are far better facilities, in under an hour."

James shrugged. Without thinking too hard about what he was doing he pinned Stark's arms to the armrests with his hands and sat on Stark's legs.

"Whoa!" Stark startled and fought him for a few seconds out of what James knew was sheer conditioned reflex. "Shit! Ever heard of personal space, James?"

"Steve, do it." James caught and held Stark's eyes. "I know you hate needles. I know you have good reasons to. But I am not going to stand back while you refuse basic first aid."

"You," Stark leaned forward until their noses were nearly touching, and James forced down a shiver of entirely inappropriate arousal, "have no right to force me into this."

Steve cautiously didn't move an inch, letting them work this out. Smart man. James didn't budge. "You telling me you're willing to rely on whatever third rate patch job those assholes did?" He parried. "Gonna take the risk that they didn't clean it properly?"

He knew that was fighting dirty. That Stark was very leery of infections of any kind. 

Stark saw through the tactic, too. "That's low." He took a shuddering breath. "And while we're on the topic, since when do you care?"

"Remember when you broke me out of that cage your AI put me in, Stark?"

Stark raised an eyebrow at him. "That was the first time you showed up at the Tower. And how many times have I told you to call me 'Tony'?"

"Yeah, it was." James agreed, ignoring the rest of Stark's response.

Steve snorted. "You mean the day Tony walked right up to you without knowing whether you would attack or not and sent me into a panic?"

James would have shrugged. "That's what I decided I liked. I keep the things and people I like in one piece."

Stark relaxed slightly, hearing that. With a wordless growl that resonated in his chest, he gave in. "Fine, Cap let's get this over with so your lover's overprotective half will get out of my lap."

James smirked at him. "I like it here," he said, throwing Stark a nice broad hint.

 _Jesus, watching you flirt is about like seeing someone take a sledgehammer to a window,_ Bucky hissed at him, sounding surprised and a trifle alarmed.

Well, the direct approach was far less likely to end in misunderstandings. 

Steve rolled his eyes so hard it was almost audible. "So Nat was right about that too," he grumbled. "Damn it."

"Everyone's a critic. Steve, shut up and patch Stark up," James demanded. He didn't look away from Stark. The incredulous look he was getting from Stark was almost funny. "What?"

"Was that your idea of flirting?"

James let the challenge and thrill he felt show in his expression just slightly, and knew Stark recognised it by the way his own eyes widened. "No," he answered, "that was my way of telling you I want to take you to bed, and for it to be long-term."

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. "We have a few things to talk about first, James," he said firmly as he finally stepped over to start patching up Tony's arm. "And Bucky has to be a part of the discussion. Period."

"Fine." James acquiesced. He could be magnanimous, here. He was probably going to get what he wanted, after all.


End file.
